


Ragnarok

by lanalucy



Series: Synchronicity [3]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Art Shows, Concerts, First Meetings, GYWO Bingo 2014, Painting, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 02:59:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2797124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanalucy/pseuds/lanalucy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evie gets at least one surprise at her art show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ragnarok

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to newnumbertwo and laura_mayfair for beta duties and title brainstorming.

Evie was nervous. Every single time, she was nervous. Didn’t matter how many of these things she’d done, her palms sweated when she shook hands with people, or she babbled like an idiot when someone asked her about a painting. She hated this part of her trade, but since it paid the bills, and it only happened three or four times a year, she tolerated it as best she could. She’d much rather deal with people one on one, in her loft apartment and comfy sweats.

Someone bumped her elbow and she turned, an automatic “Sorry” on her lips.

“No, it’s my fault. I was looking at my phone.”

He looked up and Evie’s stomach turned over. It was the guy from the concert, the one with the eyes. He squinted at her. “Do I know you?”

Evie shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She hoped he wouldn’t remember her evicting him from her seat at the concert. She looked completely different - hair, makeup, dress, heels. There was a good chance he’d never make the connection in his head. She turned back to the painting she’d been checking out. It was one of the few here tonight that wasn’t hers.

“What do you think?” He gestured with his phone.

She nodded. “It’s interesting.”

“That doesn’t exactly sound like a compliment.”

She glanced up at him, then back at the painting. “I don’t know. It just…doesn’t make me feel anything. If I had this on my wall, it’d be in the spare bedroom, the one nobody ever goes in. It’s…” She hesitated.

“Go on.”

She hunched her shoulders and whispered. “It’s boring.”

He whispered back. “I agree. I’d never buy anything like this.” He pointed down the wall, toward one of hers, and they naturally moved toward the painting. “Now this one, it feels warm and cozy to me. It’s not my style, but since I’m looking on behalf of someone else, that doesn’t really matter.”

“For someone else?” She sipped at her champagne. Awful stuff. But Shelley always insisted she carry around a glass at these things. Supposedly made her look approachable.

His brows pulled together for a moment. “Oh, yeah. I’ve got a friend who’s getting married. She and her fiance asked me to keep an eye out for some art for their new house.”

He smiled, and she smiled back. Must be good friends to trust him to choose art.

They continued around the perimeter of the room, conversation casual and minimal. He made notes on his phone whenever he liked one of the paintings, and she was gratified to see all of the notes were on her paintings. She did have to keep a roof over her head, after all. Not that she was hurting. She was comfortable, just not swimming in money. When she’d made her first big sale, her brother had offered up his money guy, and said he’d pay the fees. Evie had thought it was a silly idea at the time, especially for just a few thousand, but now? Now she had a decent cushion, and could afford to indulge her whims a little. Like the loft - her own money, her own credit, the way she preferred to do everything.

Just as they were approaching the last of the displays, Shelley came rushing up. Evie caught her eyes and shook her head minutely. 

“So, Remy? What do you think?” She smiled up at him as she put her arm around Evie’s waist.

“I’ve made notes, and I’ll put it all in an email, but at least a dozen. And if you can give me a heads up when anything new from El comes in, I’d appreciate it.”

Shelley squeezed Evie’s waist. “I can do that.” She looked at Evie and Remy. “Did you two meet?”

Remy laughed. “We’ve made the circuit, but I completely forgot to introduce myself.” He held his hand out. “Remy Wells.”

“Evie.”

“Nice to meet you, Evie.” He held up his phone. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to check in with Cassie and Jack on these. Shelley, I’ll get back with you before I leave.”

Evie and Shelley waved as he walked away.

“Did you hear that, Evie? At least a dozen. And he wants to be on the list.” Shelley was all but jumping in place.

“I heard, Shelley. I take it it’s been a good night?”

“Remy probably won’t get everything he wants. I’ve sent invoices for more than half already, so unless someone changes their mind, you are sold out!”

She fluttered her eyelashes at Shelley. “Then may I please put this stuff down and find a real drink?”

Shelley belly-laughed. “What is it with you and your anti-champagne thing?”

“Just never been a fan of the grape, Shelley.”

“We’re about done here anyway. What do you say to late night pancakes? With OJ?”

“I am always up for pancakes.” She pushed at Shelley’s shoulder. “Go finish up. Let’s get out of here.”


End file.
